Moon Salutations Yoga Flow for Honoring Your Feelings

The video opens on a mat with no music, no backdrop, and a teacher admitting something most yoga teachers would rather keep off camera. Liza Colpa tells viewers that she has wanted to push past her feelings, that as a yoga teacher she feels pressure to be positive all the time, and that this pressure gets harder to sustain in a moment of pandemic and crisis. Her answer is a 38-minute Chandra Namaskar, or Moon Salutations, sequence that treats the body's movement as a way into emotion rather than a way around it. It was published in April 2020, and the video has drawn more than 51,000 views. What follows is a close reading of what she is doing, why the moon is the right image for it, and how a flow built on hips and breath can become a place to acknowledge what you are carrying.

Why would a yoga teacher admit she wants to push her feelings away?

The most striking thing about this video is its candor. Colpa does not begin with alignment cues or a philosophy lecture. She begins with a confession: "I know I've been in a place where sometimes I wish I could push past feelings and not acknowledge what comes up." She goes on to say she tends to want to be positive all the time, "especially as a yoga teacher," and that in a pandemic this becomes very hard. She says it plainly and without apology, and that choice sets the tone for everything after it. (Liza Colpa, opening segment, 0:07.)

That honesty matters because it names the trap the practice is meant to address. Many people who come to a mat do so partly to get away from something. A teacher who insists on a bright face can end up asking students to do the same. Colpa's framing reverses that instinct. The flow is not designed to fix the feeling or to lift you above it. It is designed to let the feeling be present while you move, and to treat that presence as ordinary rather than a failure.

What does the moon have to do with human emotion?

The central image arrives early. "Human beings can't just be in one emotion," Colpa says. "We have to be in different phases like the moon." She continues: "we evolve, we change, sometimes we're at full, sometimes we're at half, and that's all okay." (Liza Colpa, 0:36.) The idea is simple, and it does a lot of work. The moon is never fully one thing. It waxes and wanes on a schedule that is visible to anyone who looks up, and nobody expects it to stay full.

The video's written description makes the same argument more bluntly: "Humans beings are like phases of the moon, and if we don't honor the phases within ourselves, we will just continue to fight against an ever-present current." That phrase, "fight against an ever-present current," is the logic of the whole sequence. Resisting a feeling takes effort, and the effort is often what wears people down. Acknowledging a feeling, even a heavy one, is a way of letting the current move you instead of bracing against it.

Colpa adds one more instruction that shapes the practice: "lean into the growth." (Liza Colpa, 1:00.) This is a small phrase with a specific meaning. It asks the practitioner to move toward whatever is arising rather than away from it, which is a different relationship to discomfort than most people bring to a workout or even to a restorative class.

How does the opening set up the practice?

Before any shape appears, the video spends several minutes on breath and attention. Colpa asks viewers to sit with the sit bones grounded, lift through the crown of the head, close the eyes, and take deep breaths that she calls sighs. She asks them to "relax the shoulders, relax the jaw," and to let the outside world fade. Then she invites an intention. Her guidance is open: it "could be absolutely anything," with the theme of "allowing yourself to be human, to be here, to feel without judgment and without criticism." (Liza Colpa, 3:14.)

This is a useful template for anyone building their own practice. The intention is not a goal to achieve during the sequence. It is a stance to return to when the body gets complicated, which, as Colpa notes, it will. She acknowledges early that "the sequence can get a little bit confusing and complicated," and gives the permission that runs through the whole video: "do what you can, modify in any way you need."

How does the flow move from warm-up into the hips?

Once the eyes open, the practice begins gently. Colpa leads with Kundalini circles, which she describes as getting into the motion of the body: send the heart forward, round over to the right, curl the tailbone under, bring the chin toward the chest, round over to the left, and keep moving in whatever way feels good. She encourages "creative free movement" and reminds people to melt the shoulders away from the ears as energy rises up the spine. (Liza Colpa, 4:20.)

From there the video moves to tabletop and cat-cow. Here the teacher's framing of the whole sequence becomes clearest. She says Chandra Namaskar is "meant to get into the hips and upper body equally, tapping into the strength as well as the flexibility." (Liza Colpa, about 6:38.) That balance is worth noticing. Many people come to hip-opening work seeking only release. Colpa's version asks for stability too, and the moving between the two is part of why the flow feels different from a static stretch.

Her instruction to "let go of right or wrong, correct or incorrect" appears at the cat-cow stage, and it is the most practical piece of advice in the video. Cat-cow is a place where people tend to judge their spines and their timing. Colpa tells them to play, to try circular patterns, and to get creative. That invitation to play is also an invitation to feel. Movement without a correct answer leaves room for whatever emotion has shown up.

Where do the feelings show up in the sequence?

The emotional work is threaded through the transitions. In child's pose, between downward dog and forward fold, Colpa pauses for the viewer to "tune on into whatever it is you're feeling, acknowledging it as okay." In downward dog she invites people to "let go of any emotions that do not serve you" while asking them to acknowledge that it is okay to feel what is arriving. She does not ask people to discard feelings. She asks them to distinguish between what is weighing them down and what is simply present.

The sequence then moves into a standing series with Anjali mudra, the prayer position with palms together. Colpa asks people to open their hands upward "like you're asking to receive something or you're giving something," and to exhale any emotions that feel heavy. (Liza Colpa, about 10:29.) The gesture is an open-handed one. It frames the practice as an exchange rather than a battle: you can release something and receive something in the same breath.

The lunges and heel-toe steps that follow are the most technically demanding stretch of the video, and Colpa acknowledges it. She says the sequence "can feel kind of awkward," and when the walking hands move inside the feet she offers a plain reassurance: "be compassionate with yourself." (Liza Colpa, about 26:15.) This is where the video's central theme becomes physical. The body is asked to balance, reach, and hold, and the instruction is not to perform perfectly but to stay with the effort and with whatever it stirs up.

What is the lasting takeaway off the mat?

The video closes with a return to stillness. Colpa asks viewers to let go, to take a breath, and to bring the palms to the forehead in prayer. Her final words are a blessing: she hopes people have "an amazing rest of your day." (Liza Colpa, closing segment, about 37:15.) The gesture is simple, and it asks the practitioner to carry the practice out the door in a neutral way rather than a triumphant one.

What makes this flow worth watching is not a dramatic claim about emotion or healing. Colpa makes no sweeping promises in the material; the description says the aim is for people to "feel lighter and more grounded off the yoga mat." What she offers instead is a set of permissions and a way of moving. Feelings are phases. Resisting them is tiring. Movement, breath, and a playful refusal to judge can make room for what is there. For a teacher who admits she has wanted to be positive all the time, that may be the most useful thing she can show.

Where to go from here

If the video resonates, the practical next step is to try it in short segments before attempting the full thirty-eight minutes. Start with the seated breath and intention, then add Kundalini circles and cat-cow, and only then move into the standing sequence. Keep Colpa's modification rule close: if a step does not fit your body or your mood on a given day, change it. Her channel also includes meditation links in its description, and her website, lizacolpa.com, is listed there for those who want to follow her other work. The most useful test is simple: after the practice, notice whether you feel a little more able to be in the phase you are in.